Not What It Looks Like
by kci47
Summary: Olivia is summoned to Barba's office to help with a "situation", but the result is something she could never have expected. / Written for @thebarsondaily's Naughty or Nice Valentine's Day Ficathon on tumblr. BARSON one-shot.


Title: Not What It Looks Like  
Author: HaughtyHippogriff  
Rating: M, so very M  
Prompt(s): food play  
Summary: Olivia is summoned to Barba's office to help with a "situation", but the result is something she could never have expected.  
A/N: I didn't think I would be able to get this written, but after a marathon burst of writing today I was able to complete it! Also, I didn't quite meet my prompt, but please enjoy this definitely **naughty** fic anyway.

* * *

"Morning, folks," Olivia called out as she entered the squad room on her way to her office. Murmured 'mornings' and nods accompanied her greeting, but Carisi leapt to his feet as she neared his desk.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Lieutenant," he said, executing a short bow.

"Thanks, Carisi," Olivia replied, bemused. "You too."

"Got any special plans today?" Rollins asked her. Both Rollins and Carisi seemed particularly interested in her answer, which was odd, but then again—maybe they were just being friendly.

"Afraid not. Tucker and I aren't..." She gestured uselessly.

"Right, of course," Rollins jumped in. "Sorry to, uh, bring that up. We just hoped that you might, um, have something special today."

"Nope. Just a typical day at the office," Olivia replied, beginning to sidle closer to her door. Small talk was one thing, but prolonged discussions about personal matters with her staff was something entirely different.

"Well, maybe you'll be surprised," Carisi offered enigmatically. Olivia watched Rollins widen her eyes at Carisi and then look innocently at her computer. Carisi took his seat again and the two exchanged a look. Shaking her head, Olivia entered her office and saw her voicemail was already blinking. It was going to be a busy day.

* * *

Olivia stepped out of the elevator and entered the ADA's office not twenty minutes later. Barba's assistant, Carmen, jumped to her feet. "Lieutenant Benson, thank you for coming over so quickly. We seem to have some kind of...situation."

Olivia felt her brows rise. "That sounds serious."

Carmen nodded, glancing around the office before lowering her voice. "Mr. Barba has barred anyone from entering his office, except for you. He was most insistent that you come immediately. No one knows what's going on."

"Okay then," Olivia said, looking at Barba's closed door. "I guess I'll just..." She gestured in the direction of his door.

"If you or Mr. Barba need anything, don't hesitate to ask," Carmen supplied. The woman looked relieved that Olivia would be the one sorting things out.

"Thank you," Olivia said, and then she approached Barba's door. She knocked and waited until she heard him say, "Olivia?"

"It's just me, what's going on—oh!" Olivia stepped quickly into Barba's office and shut the door behind her. Her eyes couldn't move fast enough to fully take in the sight that greeted her, though.

"It's not what it looks like," Barba began.

"Well, it certainly looks interesting," she answered, coming closer. He was sprawled in his desk chair, blindfolded and yet still managing to look extremely sheepish. As if that wasn't shocking enough, her detective's eye landed on all the smaller details—the handcuffs confining him to the chair, the top buttons of his shirt undone...the lipstick mark on his collar. She moved around behind his desk and noted that his pants were down around his ankles, and said ankles appeared to be zip-tied to the chair legs.

"Wow, Rafael. I admit I don't know where to start with this one. I don't suppose you can describe your assailant?"

"You're hilarious, Lieutenant. I called _you_ , specifically, because I assumed that you could help me in a professional manner. Obviously, I was wrong. Just get me out of these cuffs and we'll forget this ever happened."

"I don't think that's going to be possible. How am I ever going to forget that you wear cheeseburger-print boxer briefs under those fancy suits of yours?"

Barba inhaled deeply and then huffed out an agitated breath. "Again. This is not what it looks like."

Olivia reached out and pulled off his blindfold. His eyes flicked to her briefly and then he looked away as a blush stained his cheeks. Olivia propped herself up on the edge of his desk and tried to tamp down her amusement. "So tell me what happened. You know I won't judge you, The Victim."

Okay, so she probably hadn't kept _all_ her amusement out of her tone, but really, what else could she do? This was ADA Rafael Barba, the man who was never dressed any less than impeccably, and certainly never flustered. And he was trussed in his chair like a Christmas goose, and halfway naked, to boot. He was lucky she hadn't burst out laughing yet.

He shot her a glare at her victim comment before looking away again.

"I received what I thought was a singing telegram early this morning, but I was checking my emails as she sang and the next thing I know, she'd jumped me. She had hands like an octopus, Olivia—they were _everywhere_. Next thing I know, I'm being cuffed to the chair and left like this. Thankfully, my phone has voice-activated command."

"Well, that explains a lot," Olivia said, looking at the red blindfold as she threaded it through her fingers. Things were falling into place, and she wasn't sure how she wanted to proceed.

"What? How does that explain anything?"

She looked up at him and smiled slightly. "There was a set of keys on my desk when I came into work this morning. They looked like cuff keys, so I went to put them in the drawer with my extras and realized the handcuffs themselves were gone. Let me guess—did your attacker have curly red hair, no vocal talent, and a ridiculous amount of makeup on?"

"Yes, actually. How did you know?"

Olivia finally did laugh. "I know why you thought she had so many hands. There were at least two pairs involved in tying you up."

"I don't have the patience for riddles. Tell me or, better yet, free me and then tell me."

"I don't know, Barba...I'm enjoying having you at my mercy."

"It's not funny."

"That's odd," she said, twirling the blindfold through her fingers some more, "because I'm definitely amused."

"Benson. Please."

Olivia bit her lip against the smile that threatened. It wasn't often that their indomitable ADA used the word 'please' and she didn't want him to think she would dare to laugh at him on the rare occasion that he did. "Oh, but Rollins and Carisi went through so much trouble to get you here, all wrapped up for me. Or rather, unwrapped. Interesting choice of undergarments, by the way."

"They were a gift. And it is roughly three days past laundry day at my apartment."

"Uhm-hmm, right."

Barba scowled but didn't argue further. "You're going to discipline your detectives, aren't you?"

"Probably." She grinned again as she took in his astonishment. "I haven't decided."

"Seriously? You can't let them come in here and cuff me whenever they feel like it!"

"But the result has been so very delightful," Olivia pointed out, tilting her head to the side and grinning at him.

"Shut up, Benson." His lips curved up ever so slightly, belying his harsh words.

"Make me, Barba. Or perhaps you've forgotten the cuffs?"

"Come here, then."

The atmosphere in the room shifted then, from playful to charged, in the space of a heartbeat. Olivia didn't _think_ his voice had dropped on purpose; then again, he was looking at her with the level of intensity he usually reserved for witnesses on the stand. That look sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. She briefly considered how shocked he would be if she obeyed his command by plopping herself down on his lap.

Very shocked, she imagined.

Pushing that particular fantasy aside, Olivia sighed and straightened. "I'll undo your cuffs, Barba, but I have a request. Actually, two requests."

She could almost hear his teeth grinding together as his jaw firmed in annoyance. His tone when he spoke, however, was exaggeratedly pleasant. "Seeing as I am entirely at your mercy as well as your discretion, I would simply love to honor whatever requests you may have."

"Excellent. The first is—have dinner with me tonight." She saw his eyes widen before he wrangled his expression under control.

"It's Valentine's Day. Every restaurant in the city will be a madhouse."

It wasn't exactly an enthusiastic 'yes', but neither was it a 'no'. She'd take it. She moved around behind him to undo the cuffs as she said, "I'll make the plans, Barba. You just show up."

"What about Noah?" As soon as his wrists were freed, Barba brought his hands around to rub at the skin there. He didn't turn to look at her, for which Olivia was grateful. She knew she was blushing and she couldn't control it.

"Oh. Um, Lucy was already planning to watch him, you know, a few weeks ago, and I just haven't, ah...I haven't really had the heart to tell her that I didn't need her anymore. So I've got childcare for tonight already."

There was a moment of silence while Olivia bolstered up the fortitude to come back into Barba's line of sight. Before she could, though, he said, "I was...sorry to hear about that, by the way. You and Tucker."

Olivia felt the rest of her embarrassment melt away at the kind words, even though she knew Barba had been opposed to their relationship from the beginning. "Thank you for that," she said softly, moving around the chair and kneeling at his feet. She pulled out her utility knife to cut the zip-ties. "But there's nothing to be sorry about. It just wasn't working."

She cut the ties swiftly and returned the knife to her pocket, only then looking up to realize that she was kneeling between Barba's legs. His _bare_ legs, since his pants were in the vicinity of his recently-freed ankles. She cleared her throat and frantically tried to think of something to say— _anything_. The longer the silence stretched on, the weirder this was. But she couldn't seem to get her legs to cooperate, and Barba was once again staring at her with that intensity that seemed to imply he was the Big Bad Wolf, and he wanted to eat her up.

Olivia swallowed as her gaze dropped briefly to his brightly-patterned boxer briefs. She forced her eyes back up and was still trying to think of something funny to say when Barba spoke, his voice rough. "You mentioned a second request?"

"Um, yes." As they both watched, Olivia's hand darted out to brush against the hem of the briefs. Barba's thighs tensed at the contact, and Olivia couldn't seem to drag her eyes away from where her fingers were touching him. When she finally did pull her eyes up to his face, she licked her lips. "Keep these on for tonight," she murmured, her voice gone husky.

Deciding to get out of there before Barba could reply, Olivia stood and bolted.

* * *

Many hours later, Olivia wound her way through the tables at one of the local bar-and-grill combos by her office until she found an open booth in the back of the restaurant. Practically falling into the seat, she exhaled and slouched back against the seat. It had been an extremely long day at the precinct, made even worse by her mixed feelings of anticipation and dread for this evening's date.

No, not a date. Just dinner.

Her mind shied away from making this into something romantic. It was just...two colleagues, eating a meal. Yes, that was it.

It surely had nothing to do with her position earlier this morning, crouched at the feet of a half-naked and disgruntled ADA.

Mentally shaking herself and sitting up as the waiter approached, she went ahead and ordered a martini for herself and a scotch for Barba. She suspected she would need the liquid fortitude before the night ended. Their drinks had just arrived when Barba entered the front doors. His eyes landed on her almost immediately, and all of Olivia's hard-won calm deserted her as the electricity between them shot down her spine. He made his way to her table with a single-minded purpose that she was grown-up enough to admit turned her on, desperately. She wanted all that lovely attention focused on herself, to know what it was like when Rafael Barba had you in his sights with no intention of letting you go. As he neared her, she took in his immaculate suit and repressed a smile at the image of him completely undone in his office earlier that morning. He must have run home to change, though, because the lipstick-stained collar was nowhere to be seen.

He looked exceedingly handsome, as he always did. Olivia was glad that she'd also taken time to go home and change, although she'd had a temporary mental breakdown when she'd been trying to decide whether she should dress like she was on a date or not. In the end, 'date' had won, so here she sat in a strappy burgundy dress and heels. Taking in the sight of Barba, she decided she'd made the right choice. At least no one would see them together and wonder what someone as striking as him was doing with _her_.

Then he opened his mouth and ruined the effect.

"You call _this_ a place for Valentine's dinner?"

Olivia frowned at him. "I _call_ this the only place in the vicinity that I thought might actually have a table tonight."

After a second he cocked his head and conceded the point. "Fair enough." He slid into the seat across from her and glanced disparagingly at the laminated menu without picking it up. "What's good here?"

"The alcohol," she replied drily, grinning when he chuckled.

Their waiter returned and took their orders—two house specialty burgers—and then left them on their own.

Which turned out to be far more awkward than Olivia would have expected. Silence reigned for a full minute as Barba looked everywhere except at her. She decided to forge ahead, anyway.

"I decided to let Rollins and Carisi stew in fear for the next couple of days," she said.

That brought Barba's attention back to her, and a quirk to his lips as well. "The anticipation is worse than the punishment," he said, and then nodded. "Nicely done. Did they say anything when you got back?"

"No. I made sure they saw me put the handcuffs back, but then I got caught up in paperwork for a few hours," she told him, smiling at the memory. "They kept inventing reasons to come ask me questions about their case files. Eventually they quit and just kept shooting worried looks at me for the rest of the day."

"How exhausting," Barba commented.

"It was, yes," Olivia answered, loving their banter. She could trade words with Rafael Barba all day and never tire of it. She took a drink of her martini and then grinned at him as she set the glass back down. "By the time Monday morning rolls around, they'll have become complacent. Then I'll bring them in to be reprimanded."

Barba sat back in his chair, unbuttoning his suit jacket and letting the sides fall open. "You're far more devious than I would have ever guessed. It's surprisingly arousing."

Olivia felt a tingle race through her body at his words. She was also pleased by the compliment, odd though it may have sounded to an outsider. She leaned forward over the table and waggled her brows at him. "You should see me when I lie to perps during interrogation," she stage-whispered.

Barba mimicked her, resting his elbows on the table and bringing his face closer to hers. "I have," he whispered back. "And it's damn sexy, Lieutenant."

Her breath caught in her throat and Olivia had to sit back or else do something crazy, like kiss Barba over the table right here in an open restaurant. Glancing at him, she saw that he too had relaxed back into his seat, although he was watching her as she struggled to regain her composure. She decided to throw his tactics right back at him.

"Did you wear the cheeseburger underwear like I asked you to?" she said, proud of the fact that her voice didn't sound the teeniest bit desperate. Even though she _felt_ desperate—extremely so.

But her question had the desired effect, knocking the smugness right off his gorgeous face. He looked both ways to make sure no one had heard her, then shot her an annoyed glare. "You know I did," he bit out. "That was part of our agreement, wasn't it?"

"Just checking," she answered, feeling some of her confidence return. She could handle him; she always had been able to. Their food arrived then and Olivia crossed her legs under the table as she unrolled her napkin and silverware. Barba was still looking a tad flustered, which she enjoyed far too much for her own good. There was just something so appealing about ruffling him up, figuratively.

She allowed her mind to entertain the idea of ruffling him up literally for only a moment before dragging her thoughts back to the present. She waited until he'd finished his scotch before she casually announced, "The underwear I'm wearing also happens to have a food design. Ice cream cones."

Even though he'd already swallowed his drink, Olivia could have sworn that he choked. His brows rose to his hairline and he stared at her, incredulous. The moment spun out between them, both of them recognizing that talking about each other's underwear had surely crossed a line. Olivia was about to change the subject, to return them to their sense of normalcy, when Barba wet his lips and said, "I look forward to tasting them."

Olivia's body convulsed so hard that her knee shot up and knocked the table. Her drink toppled over and spilled the rest of her martini all over her lap. They stared at one another for just a second before Barba abruptly rose and pulled out his wallet. He tossed several bills on the table and held his hand out to Olivia. "We should get you out of that before the stain sets," he explained, his voice gone dark and deliciously raspy.

"Of course," she breathed, grabbing her purse and coat before letting him pull her up and out of the booth. He hustled her past all the other tables, not slowing even once they'd made it outside. He towed her around to the side of the building into the darkened alley, not stopping until they were far enough from the street that the light didn't quite reach them. Then he propelled her against the brick wall of the building and followed, pressing his body against hers from hip to shoulder as his lips landed on hers. Olivia moaned, all of her senses overwhelmed by Barba in this moment. She dropped her purse and coat as she looped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, frantically tangling her tongue with his as he pressed her more firmly against the wall.

She wove her fingers into his hair and tilted her head, giving him better access to her mouth. He kissed like he did everything else—with his complete and utter dedication. And it was heady, indeed.

He shifted so one of his legs slid between her thighs, and Olivia threw her head back, groaning at the contact. His hands roamed every inch of her body, taking full possession as he continued to kiss the living daylights out of her. His mouth was everywhere—her neck, her jaw, her ear, trailing down the neckline of her dress...

"Rafael," she managed, not even ashamed when it came out more like a plea than anything.

"Tell me what you want, mi amor," he murmured against her collarbone. His eyes cut up to hers, and Olivia melted at the desire in their depths.

"I want you to take me right here, right now," she said, knowing as well as he did that they would both insist on spoken, affirmative consent. At least until they'd been at this long enough to know each other's signals...

But future encounters were a worry for another time. Right now he was pulling the neckline of her dress aside and licking along the edge of her bra. Olivia's fingers tightened in his hair, and she growled, "Now, Barba," as she urged her hips against his.

"You never asked me if this was okay with me," he pointed out, smirking as he yanked her dress up to her waist. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but you really ought to know better—"

Olivia bit his earlobe. "If you can't find something sexy to do with that mouth, then please, shut it," she told him.

"I'll put my mouth to good use later. Right now, though..." He quickly unbuckled his trousers and then hitched one of her thighs up around his waist. He pulled her ice-cream-cone panties to the side and eyed her, frowning. "Your heels have me at a disadvantage," he admitted. "The angle is all wrong—"

Olivia couldn't help her laugh. "It's alright. Why don't we go back to—ooh!"

He lifted her up, pinning her against the wall and holding her firmly beneath each thigh. He was surprisingly strong for someone who spent his day reading and writing, but he was able to position her how he wanted, bringing the opening of her vagina more in line with the tip of his cock. At his nudge, Olivia closed her eyes and sighed happily, waiting for him to thrust in. But nothing happened.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. Barba was staring steadily back at her, his eyes hot with the promise of what was to come. "There you are. I wanted you looking at me when I did _this_ for the first time—"

And then he was finally surging inside of her, filling her with the most wonderful sensations. Olivia gripped his shoulders and held on, never taking her eyes off his as he continued to plunge in and out of her, driving her ever closer to the edge. When her nails bit into his shoulders through his suit coat, he sped up, pistoning into her with such precise strokes that she was very close to losing her mind.

"Rafael, please," she begged him. She started to moan as her climax approached, and Barba leaned forward to take her mouth with his as he slammed into her several more times and she came, spectacularly. She shouted her release into his mouth and he continued to kiss her as he came, too.

Afterwards, he let his head drop to her shoulder but he maintained his hold on her legs. Olivia pressed her lips to his neck, thinking that she was never going to be able to see him in a suit again without remembering this night.

Which was just freaking fantastic, because the man was _always_ in a suit.

Eventually he slipped out of her and released her legs, letting her slide slowly down his body until her feet were on the ground. He fixed her dress with a satisfied look on his face that fired her blood all over again. She hadn't ever been fucked in an alleyway before, and honestly, she was still raring to go again if he was—

"Let's get you home," he murmured.

She sighed.

* * *

"Thanks, Lucy," Olivia whispered a short while later, closing the door to Noah's room softly.

"Anytime, Olivia," Lucy whispered back, glancing over her shoulder toward the living room where Barba waited. "Although I didn't realize—I mean, I thought—"

"It's nothing, Lucy," Olivia said, hurrying to correct whatever Lucy's misconceptions may be. "Barba and I just had dinner together after a long day at work. That's all."

Lucy looked questioningly at Olivia, but nodded. "If you don't need me...?"

"I'm good for the night. Thanks again." Olivia led the way back to the living room, Lucy following closely behind. When she turned to say goodbye to her nanny, she was surprised to see Lucy stifling a laugh. "Is there something else?"

"Oh, no! I'll just, um, leave you to your night. Have a lovely rest of your Valentine's Day." The look she gave Barba was positively mischievous. She put her hand up to her mouth and pretended to whisper. "Next time, make sure she has a sweater or something," the babysitter said. Then Lucy shot Olivia a look of admiration and slipped out, shutting the door behind her.

"What—?" Olivia stared at the closed door, certain she could hear Lucy chuckling in the hallway.

"What did you tell her?" Barba asked from behind her. Olivia turned and frowned—his voice was definitely amused as well.

"That we had just had dinner, nothing else. Why are you laughing?" Olivia demanded.

"I'm sorry. I should have been paying more attention. Your shoulders, they, um—do you have any healing cream? We should probably apply some." His amusement faded into a look of concern as he brushed his hands over her shoulders.

It was then that Olivia felt the stinging. Pulling one shoulder forward, she noticed the abrasions there. "The brick," she muttered, Lucy's comment suddenly making a lot more sense.

"The brick," Barba agreed, pressing feather-light kisses to the scratches covering her shoulders. He stepped behind her and continued to kiss her abused skin as he slid his hands around her waist, resting them low over her stomach. Olivia relaxed in his arms as his ministrations slowly became more heated.

"Maybe we should try my bed," she suggested, grabbing his hand and pulling him behind her without waiting for an answer.

He disentangled himself to shut her door quietly, a move which made her soften that much more. There would be no amorous activities if Noah woke up, and right now, Olivia was so keyed up that she couldn't contemplate _not_ having at least one more orgasm before he left for the night.

Keeping her eyes on his, she shrugged out of her dress and let it pool at her feet. His gaze darkened as his pupils dilated, and he immediately stripped off his suit coat and went to work on his tie. Olivia stood, transfixed, as he began to undo the buttons of his dress shirt one by one. That done, he kicked off his shoes and undid his pants, stacking all his clothing neatly in her chair.

"You've never looked sexier," he rasped, his eyes traveling from her face to her feet and back again.

"I guess it's the ice cream undies," she retorted, cocking a hip. Something about standing in front of Rafael Barba in nothing but her heels and underwear was _really_ intoxicating, and she found that she didn't feel shy at all.

The grin Barba gave her was purely predatory. "I'll have you know that I've always gotten lucky when I wear these boxers," he said.

Olivia rolled her eyes and put a hand on her hip. "Shut up, Barba."

"No, really, they're batting a thousand."

"How many other conquests have you made in those, exactly?" she asked.

"Do you really want to know the answer?" He advanced on her, forcing her to back up until her knees hit the edge of her bed.

She bit her lip and debated whether she should call his bluff or not. Ultimately, she decided she didn't want to know if it _wasn't_ a bluff. "No."

"That's what I thought," he replied, placing his hands on her shoulders and gently pushing her backwards onto her bed. Leaning over her, he purred, "I think you'll be the _last_ conquest I make in these, though," and then he sank to his knees at the edge of the bed. Olivia let out a little whimper, her body on fire at the implications of his words. He lifted her legs up and hooked them over his shoulders. "Now, I believe you owe me dessert."

His mouth landed over one of the ice cream cones that was located squarely on her clitoris, and Olivia had to press a hand to her mouth to keep her shouts quiet. No matter how much she begged him, though, Rafael kept his agonizingly slow pace until she had climaxed not once, but twice.

When he finally dispensed of both their underthings, she was limp and sated. He soon had her back to crying his name against his skin, though.

* * *

As the morning sun crept around her curtains, Olivia turned away and burrowed against the warm body sleeping next to her.

Well, 'sleeping' wasn't quite the right term—they never had made it to sleep last night. At the moment, though, Rafael _was_ passed out in a post-sex comatose phase. Olivia nuzzled the skin at the base of his neck, enjoying the subtle scratch of his stubble against her lips. Seeing him totally relaxed and completely _un_ like he was during the day was its own form of aphrodisiac.

"Ready to go again already, Benson?" he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

She'd made _him_ scream _her_ name last night, too, after all.

"Mmm. Just thinking maybe we ought to thank Rollins and Carisi instead of disciplining them," she said, trailing one hand down his bare chest towards his already-stiffening cock.

He pulled back, his eyes suddenly open and alert. "Whoa. Let's not get carried away," he said, mock-serious.

"I'm going to require some convincing," she teased him, wrapping her hand around his erection, loving the way his eyes narrowed with pleasure.

He rolled them over so that he was poised on top of her. "You know I can be very persuasive," he said, and then his mouth was too busy with her body to make any other arguments.

* * *

Just as Olivia predicted, Rollins and Carisi stopped jumping every time she walked into the room after a few days. A few _more_ days and they were back to their boisterous, bickering selves. Olivia didn't even feel the slightest bit bad when she called them into her office on a Friday afternoon and told them, straight-faced, that they would be receiving charges on Monday for assault of an ADA. Their gaping expressions of disbelief were priceless, and she managed to snap a picture to send to Barba. She decided to let them sweat it out over the weekend; after all, the copious amount of amazing sex she was receiving was an excellent balm to any lingering pangs of guilt she might have felt.


End file.
